


Something to live for

by NicoleCollard



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon - TV, F/M, First Kiss, Post-Season/Series 07, The Army of the Dead, War, Winterfell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 03:59:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14180088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicoleCollard/pseuds/NicoleCollard
Summary: When the Army of the Dead arrives at Winterfell's gates, some of the inhabitants wonder what their reasons to keep fighting and living for are. Both Jaime and Brienne are confused.





	Something to live for

**Author's Note:**

> Jaime's POV. I wrote this story because I need Jaime and Brienne to survive at all costs. I hope you enjoy it... It ended up being far longer than intended.
> 
> Sorry for the mistakes. Non-native English writer here.

There was one horn blast.

Since the army of the living had established its base in Winterfell, Jon Snow had decided to follow the Night's Watch's code for arrivals. He had found it quite useful and all the leaders, lords and ladies had agreed. Some little changes had to be made due to the especial circumstances, though: one blast for returning friends, two blasts for living human beings -both friends and foes- and three blasts for the undead.

Jaime was just muttering the code to himself, a code that was no longer new to him since he had been in Winterfell for ten days now, when he heard the warning. He had just finished his evening sparring sesion with adorable Podrick and he was crossing the snow-covered courtyard after putting away their swords in the armoury. He looked up unconsciously, as if the answer to his silent question would come down from the sky. Was Jon coming back at last with news from the capital? He and the Targaryen girl had left for King's Landing five days ago, each riding a dragon. Jaime had spoken against their suggestion to ask for Cersei's help and armies one more time before she decided to attack them from the South. But those kids were too stubborn to even listen to the Kingslayer. They had accepted him in Winterfell only because his brother Tyrion and his loyal Brienne had vouched for him, and because Bran Stark hadn't made an issue of Jaime's shameful act from the past -which he was incredibly grateful for-. It was true that Jaime had some good military reputation among his former enemies, and that had granted him immediate access to the meetings, but that didn't mean the mighty Dragon Queen and the worshipped King in the North were eager to listen to his opinions just like that.

But if there was someone in Winterfell who knew Cersei well, that was Jaime. Of course, Tyrion could also give some interesting information about her, but nobody could compare their knowledge of Cersei's mind to Jaime's. He had thought he knew his sister before, yes, and everything had turned out to be a lie, but when she accused him of treason and ordered the Mountain to kill him, the scales had fallen from Jaime's eyes at last. What surprised him the most was that it had taken him less than one month to get over his sorrow. His first steps out of King's Landing had been hard, but as he kept getting away from Cersei, the heavy load in his heart had lightened. When he arrived at Winterfell twenty days later -all alone, dirty, freezing, hungry and heavy-bearded-, he felt like a new man, even if he was a very tired one. 

After hearing Cersei's intentions of hiring the Golden Company from Jaime's lips, Jon had determined to go back to the capital to make the Queen come to her senses, and he had turned a deaf ear to Jaime's warnings. It was a suicidal and useless mission. How could a man who had been proclaimed King in the North by his people be so dumb?

Jaime shook his head, then he frowned when he heard the next deafening noise.

There was a second horn blast.

So no known friends returning to the fortress. The few men who were still in the courtyard looked at Jaime with a question in their eyes, as if asking him what they should do next. Since their leaders' departure, Winterfell inhabitants had strangely turned to Brienne and himself for guidance, though none of them had ever asked for that position. It really was a matter of time that something like that happened, now that Jaime thought of it. The wildlings had that brute of a redhead to lead them, the Unsullied -although they always obeyed Daenerys orders like puppets without a soul- were commanded by that young soldier they called Grey Worm, but the Westerosi army didn't know who they should follow when it came to fighting. On the one hand, Ser Davos Seaworth was a good man, but he didn't know how to lead an army, and Tyrion was incredibly intelligent, but he had proved to be an awful strategist in the recent battles against Jaime's forces, and everyone knew it. On the other hand, the remaining Starks, though no longer the sweet kids they had been when Jaime met them some years ago, they still were quite inexperienced at planning wars. So when the soldiers had seen Brienne and Jaime -side by side, twin swords in hand- thrash the scary, grimy undead that kept arriving at Winterfell in small groups, they had decided who their new leaders in the battlefield should be.

Jaime held the men's eyes and waited for another heartbeat. Would the horn be blown one last time? Judging by the late hour, it was very likely that more undead were coming to the gates, but he always hoped the blasts stopped after the first or second ones whenever he heard them. They weren't going to be that lucky this time, though.

There was a third horn blast.

With a sigh, Jaime nodded at the men, who started running towards different parts of the castle to get ready for the battle. As for Jaime, he rushed to the place where he knew Brienne would already be: the northern crenels. They had established a course of action without even speaking about it. Both went up to the battlements to evaluate the situation -the number of enemies, the time they had to prepare their forces before the wights arrived-, he invariably squeezed Brienne's hand to reassure her and himself in the process, then both took some soldiers with them and organised the defense. Jaime was incredibly proud to say that they had lost scarcely any men in the skirmishes. Whenever that happened, Jaime considered their deaths a personal loss and always helped to retrieve the bodies to burn them later.

When he arrived at the crenels, the sight of Brienne's cloaked back welcomed him. Jaime approached her with a smile on his lips and stood by her side. He looked at her face and saw something he didn't like: Brienne's features were more tense than ever and her big blue eyes were wide open. She didn't even look back at him, so focused that she was on the horizon. Curious, Jaime turned his gaze to the dark, white lands below and the breath caught in his throat when he realised what was going on down there: a fair amount of wights was advancing towards Winterfell slow but steady.

The vanguard of the army of the dead was already coming for them.

Jaime had never seen so many dead things together. They always listened to Bran when he explained what he kept seeing in his visions, or tried to picture in their minds every story Jon Snow or the wildlings told them about their encounters with the White Walkers. Both Brienne and Jaime had been fighting those creatures in small groups for days. But this was totally different, and the worst thing was that they weren't seeing the whole army of the dead. They knew there were even more wights out there, including an ice dragon ready to kill them.

This was a war they couldn't win.

Jaime searched for Brienne's eyes. When she finally looked back at him, her blue oceans were full of questions, full of all those things they had never told each other. He took her hand in his, as he always did before a battle, and squeezed it softly to let her know that he would always remain by her side no matter what.

Suddenly, two Stark soldiers appeared in the battlements and flanked the pair before addressing them.

“Ser Jaime...”

“Lady Brienne...”

Both looked at the soldiers at the same time and replied with similar annoyed voices:

“I'm not a knight.”

“I'm not a lady.”

With a surprised expression, both turned their heads back towards each other and smiled quite amused. It seemed amazing that there was still room for fun in such circumstances. The soldiers shook their heads -everyone had noticed by then the strange relationship Jaime and Brienne had- and waited for commands. When both leaders recovered their composure, they gave the soldiers some instructions and then headed to the armoury themselves to get ready for the battle.

They knew what they had to do. The course of action for the moment the hordes arrived at Winterfell had been discussed long ago by all the leaders and lords. Jon, the Targaryen girl, Tyrion, the redheaded wildling, Brienne and Jaime himself had taken active part in the planning process. The problem was that they had put too much trust in the dragons' battle skills, and now that the moment of truth had come, said dragons were nowhere to be seen.

The activity inside the castle was frantic at the moment. Wherever Jaime looked, he could see people shouting, running, warming up, arguing, praying or even crying. Tyrion ran past them at some point and stopped for a heartbeat to shake Jaime's hand, then he left again in a rush. Jaime let Brienne help him tie his new armour. She worked quickly around him, but she was also incredibly careful not to hurt him. Both their bodies were already too battered to have more unwanted bruises added to the lot. Jaime had realised some days ago that he enjoyed having Brienne help him put on his armour. He didn't know why at the beginning, and he had even felt guilty the first few times, but as their friendship kept growing stronger, Jaime had started to allow himself to relax under her hands. He liked the skilled knots she tied, her confident movements, her tender touches. When she brushed the back of his neck with her cold fingers, Jaime shivered and grabbed her hand to keep it in place for a while without even looking at her. Brienne held his fingers softly from behind, then she let them go to finish her task. They were running out of time.

When she was done, Jaime turned round to watch her. She started dressing up in her own armour, which she did in no time because she had a lot of practise -and having two hands was of great help too, of course-.

“You're very quiet today”, Jaime told her.

Brienne finished putting on her right gauntlet and then lifted her face to look at him. There was despair in her eyes, but Jaime knew that look was only reserved for him. That brave woman would never let anyone see the fear in her eyes, but she had stopped wearing that mask in Jaime's presence. He approached her slowly, because he didn't know how to comfort her, he had always been awful at that. He was afraid himself, it would have been stupid to deny it. Only a fool would be thrilled or relaxed in this situation. Jaime put his only hand on Brienne's shoulder pad in an attempt to reassure her, but her anxious expression didn't change.

“We can't win this”, she said, her voice trembling. “We're doomed.”

“You can't give in, Brienne”, Jaime patted her back with energy. It killed him to see his friend so downcast, it wasn't like her at all. “We need to keep fighting and we need to win this war if we want to give our people a future.”

“Our people? What people, Jaime?”

Brienne's eyes were so dark and sad that Jaime didn't know what to respond at first. It was true he didn't have too many people to fight for, and that was really discouraging, but for him it was enough to have Brienne in his life to feel the need to survive, to keep going.

“Come on, Brienne. You have poor Podrick, he worships you. And the Stark girls count on you too, you can't fail them. Your father must be still waiting for his rebellious daughter to come back to Tarth and settle down at last”, here Brienne let out a sigh. Jaime searched for her eyes, then he went on. “And everyone here loves you. You are their best commander.”

Brienne stared at him with such intensity that Jaime thought he wouldn't be able to hold her gaze. It was as if she was expecting something else from him, but Jaime didn't know or didn't dare to say more. With another sigh, she lowered her eyes and nodded a little disappointed.

“We'll fight them together”, he said, because what else could he tell her?

“Of course”, Brienne agreed and turned round. She headed towards the door while she strapped Oathkeeper's scabbard to her waist, her head high again, her steps confident.

Jaime had to admit that she was the most amazing woman he had ever met. All of a sudden, a terrible thought crossed his mind when he saw her leave the armoury. What if he could never see her again? What if he lost her in battle? His heart bled for a second and Jaime pressed his hand against that spot on his chest that seemed to be right over his heart. That was a possibility he had never truly considered since his arrival at Winterfell. She was such a good swordswoman... Brienne had become a steady constant in his life for the last few years, his moral compass. How was he going to become a better person without her support, her ideals, her pushing him in the right direction?

Jaime shook his head and took a deep breath. He shouldn't allow these thoughts in his mind in such a moment. With a last look around at the men who were still finishing to get ready, he left the armoury after Brienne and followed her into the battlefield, where most of their soldiers were already prepared to fight. The Unsullied had taken the right flank to protect the White Fork lands, while the wildlings had started to get into the Wolfswood to have the forest covered.

Hordes of undead were advancing towards the keep, their rotten limbs hanging from their bodies like strangled animals. Brienne and Jaime rushed to take their positions right behind the lancers and in front of the infantrymen and archers. The wights were still quite far from Winterfell and the living would rather intercept their creepy enemies halfway before they reached the castle, so they had positioned their army a few chains away from the walls to have some room for manoeuvre. There were no White Walkers in sight, so they were still being cautious, apparently.

When they were like one furlong away from the kneeling living lancers, the wights' pace started to slow down gradually until they stopped. With a shiver, Jaime looked at the weak rays of light that filtered through the dark clouds. The sun was going down fast, so the battle was likely about to start. Jaime thought for a moment that they should attack at once to take the undead by surprise, but he soon came back to his senses: this strange war would be fought in the darkness of the nights to come, since these odd foes' bloothirstiness increased when the sun set. It was vital for the living to take advantage of any second of light to rest, recover some strengh and gather some courage.

The night would already be long enough.

They started to hear a strange noise coming right from the wights' side, as if all the creatures were grinding their teeth at the same time. A disgusting shiver ran down Jaime's spine and he sensed that their men were starting to look at each other with fear. He shot a sideglance at Brienne, whose jaw was painfully clenched. She had Oathkeeper's hilt already enclosed in her hands, ready to wield it, while Jaime hadn't unsheathed Widow's Wail yet. He closed his eyes for a second and opened them again before addressing their men.

“Brave soldiers of Westeros”, Jaime started in a loud, clear voice. He didn't know whether it was up to him to tell the men some encouraging lies, but someone needed to do it, and he had caught Brienne's full attention with his first words, so it might be worth trying, after all. “I know none of you asked for this, but here we are. We may not be the Night's Watch -we're far better looking that those crows-”, he joked, which managed to make some of the men laugh, “but we've become the shield that guards the realms of men! Our lives are threatened by death itself! If we want to have a future, we need to win this war at all costs! Don't let those things scare you, any of you is worth hundreds of them!”, all the men and women in their ranks roared at his statement. Jaime paused a little to regain his breath and went on. “Take one second to think of all those things you live for. Keep them well stored in your minds and hearts and don't let anything steal them from you!”

When the soldiers roared again, some confidence on their features at last, Jaime turned to Brienne, who was looking at him with something quite similar to admiration. Without thinking twice, he raised his only hand to cup her nape and pulled her to him until their faces were just a few inches apart.

“J-Jaime, w-what are you doing?”, Brienne asked in confusion, her eyes wide open, her skin dark red.

“I'm giving you something to live for”, he breathed against her mouth, then he closed the distance between them and crashed his lips against hers.

A sudden silence wrapped them up in its white blanket. Brienne was so shocked that she couldn't even move. Jaime's lips were pleasantly warm and their contact made her feel things she had never experienced in her life. Before he could pull back, Brienne already knew she would no longer be able to live without Jaime. When he finally broke the kiss and looked into her eyes with his most serious expression, his hand still cupping her neck, she had no doubt that she wanted to survive, she knew she needed to have the opportunity to return that kiss at some point in the future.

All of a sudden, every man and woman in their army started to clap and cheer loudly, which made the pair look around a little startled. Brienne blushed with embarrassment while Jaime grinned amused. He then let go of her neck reluctantly, but a bit happier than before. He hadn't realised how much the soldiers, Brienne and himself needed some hope, and though his pep talk had turned out to be encouraging enough, it had been the kiss what had triggered the most beautiful, natural and vigorous reaction from their ranks.

Jaime smiled at Brienne and reached for her hand one last time. He squeezed it at the very moment the sun sank into the horizon.

“Stay alive”, Jaime said before the last ray of sun could leave them at the mercy of their enemies.

He could barely see her face when she nodded, but he felt her fingers squeeze his hand back with determination and his heart swelled with affection and love. Jaime hoped they would have time to figure things out, time to tell each other all those things they kept swallowing down because of fear. He hoped he could have the chance to become the man he longed to be right in Brienne's arms, but it would have to be after winning this battle.

So when Jaime finally unsheathed Widow's Wail and ran towards the wights by her side, the thing that gave him strength to wield his sword, the word he yelled at the top of his lungs when he struck, was her name.

Brienne.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading this work. Leave a comment, please! :) It would be much appreciated.


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